


Branding

by Akzeal



Series: OC'Verse [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akzeal/pseuds/Akzeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After vorns of hard work, Roadstead has become a branded Decepticon. Life is good. Now if only he didn't have this mech claiming Roadstead had saved his life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pride

**Author's Note:**

> This verse is a mash-up of about five different verses. You'll see G1, Animated, tiny hints of Unicron Trilogy, suggestions of Sanjuno's Nine Rings of Vos (wing-speech and windlords, mostly), and possibly suggestions of Bay-verse. All thrown together. Enjoy!

Roadstead was _proud_ of himself. Justifiably so, he believed, standing in the little foyer with the other inductees. Hum... he wasn't sure he liked that word, it sounded like there were here involuntarily, which was far from the truth, even with that little red mech's twitching. But they were far from recruits by now, had attained too much to be called that...

The brown Seeker let his language musings go, looking towards the door and smiling tightly. They would go out soon, go out and be branded... His wings twitched, and Roadstead let them. It would be painful, they had all been told how it was the most painful thing they would ever experience. He didn't care. Soon, he would be a _branded_ Decepticon... Hardly the first OC to become such, but that didn't matter. Roadstead wasn't concerned with being first. It was enough that he had made it, fought and suffered, obeyed and betrayed, and not gotten himself killed, and now he was _here_.

He straightened a little as the ping came, and then, since he was closest to the door, led the way out. The crowd was unimportant, though very noisy. Roadstead knew better than to give in to his Seeker love of attention right now, and carefully held his wings still. It was made much easier by the sight of Megatron, _smiling_ at them all. Primus, Megatron was beautiful, beautiful and terrifying with the branding iron crackling in his hand. After the branding, Roadstead knew he might just have a chance with his lord, but he would also be content if it never happened. There would be a lot of performance anxiety, and Roadstead wasn't entirely sure it would be worth it.

“You who have chosen to take my brand, kneel,” Megatron said, voice rich and deep, and the line of un-marked mechs dropped. For this ceremony, they had been painted without their sigils. After this, they would never need them _painted_ again. “And recite your oaths.”

Roadstead echoed the words, spark swelling with his pride. He barely noticed the nervous stuttering of the red mech beside him. So nervous... - _If you don't stop fidgeting, someone might think you were_ afraid,- Roadstead said archly over comm. His gaze was focused passed the grounder, watching Megatron place the brand against the first inductee's armor. By coming out first, Roadstead had ensured he would be the last to be branded, but he could wait.

There was an agonized scream from the mech being branded, but every mech in the hall steeled themselves not to respond. They knew what was coming, had known from the start. The branding was meant to be the worse thing they felt, so they would not fear hacking and torture later. It would not hurt as bad as this.

- _There's no shame in admitting fear,_ \- a comm came back, and Roadstead glanced at the red mech. - _Besides, why would_ I _be... afraid? You're the one with the wings._ -

Wings which meant _two_ brands, and Roadstead watched the branding iron move as Megatron went to the second mech. The Seeker aborted the instinctual wing-twitch. He was _not_ going to let this ground- _pounder_ shake his confidence and rob him of his rightful glory. - _I am, yes. And I am honored to receive this. Eager, even._ \- He was. He was eager for the honor, for the mark... Roadstead wasn't eager for the pain. - _So since I do not fear, where do you get off?_ \- Glancing down, the Seeker added a jibe which was sure to get a response, - _Unless you don't believe that oath you took, in which case, nice knowing you._ -

The red mech did _not_ snarl, like Roadstead had expected. Instead, he went very still, watching Megatron as the Lord moved to the mech just before them. Roadstead resisted the urge to groan. - _Idiot._ -

Nothing more was said, and the two mechs watched as Megatron moved to stand before the red one. He shivered, and then visibly steeled himself and froze as the brand touched to red armor. Roadstead did hope he wasn't going to offline. If the mech offlined, _he_ would be what everyone remembered about this ceremony, and that just wouldn't do!

Then the time for thought ended. Megatron side-stepped, and Roadstead looked up to meet the crimson optics. Because there were two brands to give on his frame, Starscream came up as well, in his role as Air Commander, crackling energy-brand held in his clawed hand as well.

" _Lock your wings,_ " the Air Commander, the _Winglord_ , hissed softly, and Roadstead had no choice but to obey. It was a mercy, truly, a concession to Seeker vanity. Under that order, his wings could not quiver and twitch, and the branding would be even.

Moving nearly in unison, the two leaders touched their brands to brown wings, and Roadstead's world dissolved into pain.

It couldn't even have lasted a breem. He could hear the echoes of his own screaming as he came back to his processor. Starsceam must have released him from the order at some point, Roadstead realized, twitching his wings and biting his derma not to scream again from the agony of air against his damaged sensors. He forced himself to stand, as the others were, and slowly he realized there was cheering.

The crowd was cheering for _him_ , for the newly branded. Roadstead was _proud_ of himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why can't life be easy for just one single breem?

The smaller red mech was not, as it turned out, dead. Roadstead discovered this after giving Megatron proper thanks, while they were being exhorted to be good and inspiring and all of that. Stepping away to mingle with the crowd, which was turning into a party, Roadstead found himself nearly falling over still-vibrant red armor.

He almost shoved him away, but stopped with one good look at the other's face. Roadstead was still human enough to be very curious, and a touch more compassionate with grounders than the average Seeker was.

And the mech looked lost.

Roadstead pressed a hand to the red back, pushing him towards the wall aggressively. Reaching the wall, the Seeker wasted no time in hefting the smaller mech, letting the red legs wrap around his waist as though they were doing more than talking. “What?” Roadstead hissed. While the mech fit nicely against him, the Seeker's wings were _throbbing_ with pain, and the idea of doing anything but talking was rather unpleasant.

The red mech wasn't quite managing to meet his optics, squirming against him. Roadstead knew it was partly pain from the brand on his chest which made the mech move, and so he pressed his canopy against it until the mech got the message and held still. It took a moment or two more, filled with delicate shivers and gasps, for the mech to answer. “You... saved my-”

Uncomfortably sure of what was to follow, Roadstead silenced the mech in the fastest way he could, rather brutally claiming his mouth and glad that the mech's mask was open. - _Don't you say it! I don't_ want _you!_ -

- _It's true, though!_ \- the mech answered, opening his mouth and giving no resistance. - _I took the oath, and I_ meant _it, but I can't do this._ -

“Then it's your own slagging fault!” Roadstead snarled, breaking the 'kiss' to glare at the mech, vents heaving.

“It is. But that doesn't change-” Once again, the mech got cut off, but not by Roadstead this time.

“Enjoying yourselves, my new warriors?” Megatron asked, hands settling on the wall just outside of Roadstead's, chassis close enough that, now that he wasn't distracted, the Seeker could feel his warmth.

This was not a good situation, and it was even worse that he was trapped. He had to answered, though... His Lord was asking a question. Lie or truth, though... Roadstead dared to let his head fall back, onto Megatron's chest, so he could see the silver face. Megatron already knew what was going on, he realized, and his pause had been long enough that it was suspicious. “Just a minor disagreement, my Lord. We were working it out on our own.”

“If you don't want him, you can always kill him,” Megatron pointed out, lowering his head enough to lick at Roadstead's neck for a moment before pulling away. “This is an orn you will always remember. Have fun, Roadstead.”

The warmth at his back disappeared, and the Seeker rested his head against the other mech's. 'Have fun'... He couldn't deny the mech's claim with Megatron himself backing it up, and if he killed the red slagger, he would be marked as one of 'that' kind and would never get higher than he stood right now.

“Fine. What's your designation so I know who I'm keeping?” the Seeker huffed, in pain and tired and just wanting to go back to his room.

“My designation is Metrodash,” the red mech answered, slowly lowering himself to the floor. “And you saved my life.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With nothing to do but accept his fate, Roadstead sets to doing just that.

Roadstead still couldn't stop the snarl that the declaration of vulnerability caused, and his hand tightened on Metrodash's shoulder. Finishing the ritual didn't take more than a moment, and didn't require any real thought. “You are _mine_ ,” the Seeker said, pulling the red mech closer.

A moment later and they were heading out of the room. The 'facing-play earlier had been a charade, something to cover what was really happening in case Metrodash didn't follow through with his his statement. The red mech had, though, and there was no need to disguise anything now.

Not that they were going to interface. The grounder might be up for it, not that it mattered any longer, but Roadstead was emphatically _not_. His wings ached and the _last_ thing he had wanted was responsibility for a glitch who could barely even mean his own oaths. That was what he had, though... At least Metrodash was responsible enough to know he was safer as another's pet.

The red mech followed the brown silently, wondering what kind of mech his new keeper was. Smart, it seemed so far. Driven, with a chance and a desire to attain more. So far there seemed to be a line of gentleness to the Seeker which hinted at a human background for the mech, but it wasn't Metrodash's place to ask. All he could do was follow and hope he had made the right choice at least once.

Safely in his room- _their_ room, Roadstead amended, looking at his _pet_ , the Seeker gave in to the need to pace, wings remaining unnaturally still to minimize the airflow over sensitive nodes. “Okay. So fine. … Fine. Why were you there if you weren't even sure you believed our cause?”

“I... thought I could later maybe...” Metrodash was clearly unsure about answering, but Roadstead just waited. What the mech had _planned_ on doing and what he _could_ do now were very separate things. Finally, the grounder powered down his optics and just spoke. “I thought I could take information to the Autobots and actually be something but life here kept being different than I expected and I thought being branded might make things clearer and... Well, it did...”

“Wasn't even your plan? Least I know you're good at following orders,” Roadstead huffed. He sat abruptly, drooping a little. “Just because I didn't want you doesn't mean I'm going to hurt you. Even if I wasn't being watched I wouldn't hurt you. I've been around a couple decavorns. Yes, I'm an OC.” He was sure that Metrodash had guessed, and even if he hadn't, it was best to mention it so the red mech had a better idea of where he was coming from.

“I'll be good. Really. I'll do so well that everyone will be jealous...” Metrodash promised. He wanted to do at least one thing right.

“Just... come here and shut up. I'm tired and snappish and really _not_ in the mood right now. For anything,” Roadstead huffed. 

Metrodash just nodded, joining the Seeker on the berth. Maybe in time they could be something like friends, or at least content together. It happened with debts, sometimes. Right now, neither was sure what to do, despite the profusion of examples. Right now, he would just do as he was told, and it would be enough.


End file.
